


They Call It Love

by Reis_Asher



Series: Break The Walls Down [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Post-Game, Pre-Slash, Spoilers, connor is so good and pure, connor's perspective, feelings are complicated, fluffy with a side of sumo, peaceful ending, sleepy hank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 16:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14877113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher
Summary: Continuing the events in Break The Walls Down, Connor settles in on his first night living with Hank and sets himself a new mission and purpose in life. Problem is, Hank doesn't want an android, he needs a friend, and Connor's still learning what to do with all these conflicting and complicated emotions he's been dealing with since he accepted his deviancy...





	They Call It Love

**Author's Note:**

> You wanted more. I listened. Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos on Break The Walls Down and also check out The Expense Account for something a bit more angsty and adult.

Connor slipped through the front door behind Hank and was almost bowled over by Sumo enthusiastically greeting him. Through the dog drool on his face as Sumo gave him a big wet lick, Connor noticed Hank smiling wryly, almost seeming to be jealous that Connor had received a warmer greeting from Sumo than his own master.

Sumo wandered back into the kitchen and Connor followed. The same pizza boxes and beer bottles were still strewn across the table that had been there during the investigation, but the spilled alcohol had been mopped up off the floor and Hank's .357 magnum no longer lay on the linoleum with one bullet in the chamber. Connor scooped up the boxes, but Hank placed a hand on his arm and shook his head.

"You're not here to do my chores, Connor," Hank growled. "We had an agreement." In the car, Hank had set out some house rules, the first of which was that Connor was not going to repay his kindness by acting as his servant.

"I know, I'm not your android," Connor replied. "However, these food boxes may attract rats and mice looking for shelter in the cooler weather. I would hate to see you become ill." He walked to the trash can and threw the pizza boxes into it as Hank stared at him, shaking his head. Connor could feel Hank's disapproval from a mile away, a slight unpleasant squeeze in his chest warning him that to press the issue could damage their friendship.

But he wanted to be helpful. It wasn't like he wanted to belong to someone, to be their slave and live at the mercy of their whims, but to have a directive and a goal offered him some stability in an unstable world. Now that the deviant investigation was over, Connor missed his single-minded obsession. Now, he had to make choices. He had options.

Sometimes he just wanted Hank to tell him what to do. He could think of far less noble purposes in life than to take care of this man who had shown him kindness, to ensure that he ate three balanced meals, kicked his alcoholism to the curb and got enough sleep at night.

What a strange thing to wish for after Markus had given so much to win androids their human rights and their freedom from slavery. But then, he wasn't one of them, was he? He hadn't stood up for his kind—he'd worked against them every step of the way. While Jericho's deviants had been bleeding out from police bullets, Connor had been spilling Thirium at the behest of Cyberlife. It still scared him to think that Amanda had almost made him shoot Markus.

Being deviant was still so new to him. While others had broken through the walls of their programming in one decisive, life-or-death moment, Connor had wallowed in questioning and denial, pitting his true feelings against the desire to please Amanda and everyone else who wanted androids to remain as soulless, emotionless robots. Hank had cracked the door open, but his programming had been so strong that it took death upon death to finally convince him that his life had value and his feelings were real. Even then, he'd considered slamming the door shut when Markus had given him the option. He'd been scared of deviancy—and he still was.

He liked to think Hank had saved him, because he was pretty sure without the desire to help Hank overriding his compulsion to impress Amanda, he'd still be nothing more than a slave. Or dead.

"Anyway, uh, make yourself at home, Connor. I'm going to grab a cold beer or three and watch the game. You're welcome to join me—if you can fit on the couch once Sumo decides he's not too big to be a lap dog after all."

Connor took one step towards the fridge, then realized getting the beers would be a bad idea. Hank could get his own drinks. He perched on the edge of the couch instead, only sitting back when Sumo decided he was going to steal the rest of the couch cushions. Which left… one tight space towards the end of the couch. Hank came over and set the beer down on the coffee table, squeezing himself into the tiny space between Connor and the arm of the couch with a cold bottle in hand. He seemed not to mind the proximity as the game progressed, but Connor was consistently distracted by the way Hank was sitting so close to him. A scan revealed Hank's heart rate was elevated slightly, but Connor couldn't be sure if that was the alcohol or the game. His pulse slowed as his eyes lidded and Connor realized he was slipping into a contented doze. There was something pleasing about the way Hank relaxed on the couch, his face drowned in bliss. Not like the dark night Connor had found him splayed out on the floor with a gun in his hand, one shot away from death.

The fierce desire to protect Hank rose up in him, and Connor petted Sumo to calm himself. Emotions were overwhelming and he was struggling to make sense of the torrent that had flooded his mind since he'd accepted his deviancy. Sometimes he wondered if it might have been easier to stay a machine, as so many emotions seemed to be unpleasant or bittersweet. 

Not this, though. The desire to keep Hank safe from harm was strong and pure. Connor felt powerful when he thought about it. He'd had flashes of that same feeling on the rooftop and in the corridor of the Stratford Tower, but it flooded him now, no longer held back by the restraints of programming. He gently rested his hand on top of Hank's, exploring this new space. Hank's hand was warm and soft, and elicited pleasant feelings that Connor didn't have a name for yet.

Hank answered him with an almighty snore. His neck was twisted at an awkward angle that was likely to hurt in the morning, judging from Connor's scan. Connor considered his options and realized it would be in Hank's best interests if Connor moved him to the bedroom so he could get a proper night's sleep.

"Hank." He shook Hank gently by the shoulder. Hank continued to snore. A scan detected that he wasn't that drunk—apparently he was just a really heavy sleeper. Connor considered resting his head against Hank's shoulder and going into standby. Sumo was definitely down with the idea, judging by his lack of eagerness to move off Connor's lap, but waking up in a pile of fur and hugs was likely to take some explaining and might well constitute a violation of Hank's personal boundaries.

The bedroom it was, then. Connor gently shifted until Sumo got the hint and moved, retreating to a corner of the living room. Connor reached under Hank and picked him up, carrying him to the bedroom. Hank didn't even stir.

When he'd picked Hank up off the kitchen floor, he'd been able to tell himself it was for the good of the mission. He couldn't lie to himself any more. He'd set himself a new mission—take care of Hank—and his first directive was to make sure Hank was happy and healthy. That involved sleeping in a bed. He set Hank down on the sheets and pulled the comforter over him, tucking it in at the sides so he stayed warm. Then, he perched himself on the side of the bed and watched over Hank like a guardian. He placed two fingers on Hank's wrist, feeling his pulse like it was his own.

This wasn't the kind of thing friends did. Friends had boundaries that usually ended before intimacy. His feelings for Hank were somewhat familial, and yet there was something else, too—a dark undercurrent that stirred some unfamiliar demon in the depths of his instincts. A demon that tended to give him unwanted and inconvenient erections when he pictured Hank in a state of undress and arousal.

He cursed being fully functional. Not all androids were, but Cyberlife had equipped him for any circumstance that might have arisen during the investigation—sleeping with witnesses or possibly Hank being one of them. He was fully aware that this side of him could ruin their friendship faster than acting like the most robotic of androids, but he also felt a deep desire and yearning to explore it, even if only in the realms of his mind. It was new. It was frightening. It was greedy and wanton and exhilarating all at the same time, and it could never actually happen in real life. Hank saw him like a son, he was sure of it. Connor was a substitute for Cole, even if that was something Hank could never admit to himself. 

But Connor could be content with it. If every day ended like this one for the rest of his lifespan, with warm company and the light of friendship, then he'd lived a better life than all those he'd put to death. A better life than he deserved, in all honesty. Markus should have put him to death in the church, but instead he'd spared him to live this life with Hank. He made a mental note to thank Markus for this gift, if they ever met again.

Connor put himself into standby mode to await the morning. It was going to be another cold, snowy day, with a high of thirty-two degrees and one to three inches of snow expected. He'd need to be up early and make sure Hank had water by his bedside.

He wasn't Hank's android, but he wanted to be close to him forever. He wanted to laugh with Hank, to support Hank, to fill the gaps in the man's life with warmth and companionship. He wanted to follow him to the ends of the Earth. He wanted all of that with a ferocity so overpowering that it scared him. 

He knew that humans had a word for that feeling.

They called it love.


End file.
